Exploration
by klswhite
Summary: Laura finds something new to explore.
1. Chapter 1

**Exploration**

 **And here I go with another fluffy story. This one even has a bit of M in it. If that's not your thing then don't read it. Craftyfengirl was the inspiration for this story. I teased her about the idea of another story. She countered with the idea for this. I hope it is everything she envisioned. Happy Valentine's Day to you all!**

* * *

Leaning against the door frame, she watched him sleep. In her absence he'd spread across the bed. The sheet had pulled loose, exposing the length of his back down his right cheek to his leg. In the waning light from their bedroom windows, her eyes were drawn to a scar on his lower leg.

She could tell from the texture of the skin it was a road rash scar. Smiling to herself, she wondered how he'd gotten it. It wasn't his only scar. Most she knew the story behind. This one, she had no idea about. It seemed older, possibly the wages of a misspent youth.

The idea of Robbie as a wayward youth made her laugh. She stifled the laugh, hoping it didn't wake him. When he didn't stir, she continued her exploration of his body. Halfway down his back was a small keloid scar. It was another mystery.

"Hasn't anyone ever told you it's impolite to stare?"

Taking a step into the room, "I wasn't staring, I was admiring."

He laughed, turning his head to watch her walk. "I'm not much to look at, Laura."

Tracing her hand up his leg, she let it linger on the scar on his lower leg. A smile teased her lips, "I didn't say I was admiring your body. I was admiring your scars, wondering how you got them."

"Skateboarding."

Her laughter filled the room, "You, on a skateboard?"

He nodded, "You'd be surprised at the things a child can get you to do."

"Patrick?"

"Our Lyn. She was twelve, had these huge blue eyes and knew exactly what to do to get her old dad to do whatever she wanted." He smiled at the memory, "Val didn't speak to me for two days over that one."

She leaned over, placing a light kiss to the scar. "Serves you right." Sitting on the edge of the bed, she ran her hand slowly up his leg. Reaching the other scar, she traced the length of it gently. "And this one?"

"I got that one shortly after we met."

"What?"

"Attacked by a murderer, fell in the woods, a limb cut me."

Again she leaned over, kissing the scar. "It doesn't look like you needed stitches."

Turning in the bed, he reached for her. "I'm tougher than I look."

Sliding up his body, she smiled down at him. "Stubborn more like." She kissed the scar above his right eyebrow, "Compliments of another murderer."

He nodded, pressing into her lips. "They haven't got me yet."

Reaching down, she took one of his hands, lifting his arm. Her hand traced down the soft skin of the inside of his arm, finding the knife scar. It hurt to think about how he'd gotten it until she remembered what had happened afterward.

"I think this is my favorite one of all."

Smiling as her tongue traced the thin, angry line on his forearm. "Why is that, Laura?"

"Don't you remember what happened that night?" She raised a single eyebrow, "Something stronger."

He laughed, reaching up with his free hand, untying the sash of her dressing gown. His hand slipped inside, pushing it off her shoulder. "It was a good night."

"The first of many good nights."

Smiling he pulled on her lightly, "And afternoons, and mornings."

Leaning forward, she lightly brushed her lips against him. "And we managed to keep it all a secret."

"Yes, we did." Sliding his hand deeper into her dressing gown, he stroked the smooth, soft skin of her back. "Any other scars you need to know more about?"

Kissing the curve of his jaw, she worked her way down his body, pausing at a faded scar over his right hip. Before she traced her tongue over it, she smiled up at him, "Appendix?"

He nodded, "Twenty-two, emergency surgery."

"Poor thing." Lowering her head, she traced it with her tongue.

A low groan rumbled through his body, "Suddenly, it doesn't seem so bad."

Moving further down his body, "Any other places requiring attention?"

As he laughed, she continued moving down his body. Her lips and tongue blazing a trail, burning against his skin. His hand tangled in her when he felt her breath across his arousal. "Laura, I don't think there are any scars there."

Looking up at him, "Do you want me to stop?"

"Oh, God, no…"

Her lips closed around him, tongue flicking across him. Slowly she took him into her mouth, sliding up and down his length. She relished his groan as he pushed up to her. One hand was still tangled in her hair, the other clenched at the sheet.

She took her time, bringing him to the brink before backing off. His hand tightened in her hair, pulling her up his body. Seeing the scar on his other arm, she kissed it.

"That scar has special meaning to me."

She met his even gaze, nipping at the scar, "Why is that?"

Pulling her the remainder of the way up his body, he kissed her lightly. "Because that night we went for drinks and it was the first time I realized you were actually flirting with me, not just being polite."

"And, yet, it took you another three years to make a move."

He shook his head, "No, I asked you out two years later. It's not my fault murder got in the way."

"I stand corrected."

Moving quickly, catching her by surprise, he rolled them over. "If you must know, Dr. Hobson, I would prefer you not stand at all."

"Is that so?" Wrapping her legs around him, "What would you prefer I do?"

Tilting his hips forward, he slid into her. "Does that give you any idea?"

She moaned, tightened her muscles around him. "One or two."

He kissed her as they started moving together. Words no longer necessary, years of experience took over. They knew what to do, where to touch, how to move. They took their time, savoring the feel of skin against skin.

Laura fell over the edge first, screaming out his name. She tightened around him, pulling him deeper into her. He followed her, her name a whispered prayer as he found his release. Collapsing on top of her, he kissed her neck, whispering against her skin. "I love you."

Holding him to her, she returned the whispered words of adoration. As his muscle function returned, he rolled to the side, pulling her with him. She settled against his chest, pressing her nose into the damp skin, savoring the scent which was distinctly him, them.

Their hearts returned to a normal pace. Robbie buried his face in her hair, kissing gently. Smiling softly, "You missed one scar, Laura."

Nipping lightly at the skin on his chest, "Where's that?"

He took her hand, placed a tender kiss on the palm of it. Then he rested it tenderly over his heart. "The broken heart you helped heal. From that first night I realized you were flirting with me to that first night at my place after something stronger to that day in the White Horse, it was all you. You put all of the pieces of it back together, made it whole."

Tears filled her eyes, "That might be the sweetest thing you've ever said to me."

Wiping the solitary tear sliding down her cheek away, he kissed her. "Even better than the first time I said I love you?"

She nodded, "Since you screamed it at me in the middle of a fight, yes, this is better."

Leaning into her, he whispered, "I love you, I love you, I love you."

Smiling against his skin, she kissed his neck. "As I recall, you said it three times then too."

"As I recall, it ended the argument."

She laughed, "Quite spectacularly."

"I never planned to tell you like that."

"You had a plan?"

"I planned to take you to dinner, a walk by the river. Even had a basket stowed away with champagne so we could watch the sunset."

"You hate champagne."

Smiling at her, eyes twinkling, "Yes, but I love you. And you love champagne."

She bit on her lower lip, "That sounds lovely but I think I like the way it happened even better. It's more us."

"Possibly but it was a really good bottle of champagne. I still have it. Maybe one day, we can take that walk, watch the sunset and enjoy it."

Nodding sleepily into his chest, she sighed. "I'd like that."

Pulling her tightly to him, he kissed the top of her head. He felt the moment she slipped into sleep. Closing his eyes, he offered a silent prayer, squeezing her hand, still resting above his heart. They weren't just words; he'd meant what he said. She had healed him and he would spend the rest of his life giving thanks for it.


	2. Flirting

**Flirting**

 **There will be three chapters (total - not counting Exploration) to this. I won't be posting daily more likely every other day. I hope you enjoy their three milestones.**

Robbie, Laura and James walked the streets enjoying their chips. The boys regaled her with the story of their case. Robbie smiled down at Laura, "So at least Hathaway got a glimpse of the rock and roll life. That's educational."

James smiled, "Yes, now I know what it feels like to be Britney Spears."

"Will it stop you dressing like her on your days off?" Robbie asked.

"Probably not. That's another thing I shall need counseling for. I spent all afternoon in a lake full of crap with knives in it saving your presents, doctor. I haven't begun on the matter of compensation."

Robbie looked at him, "Would you settle out of court for a pint?"

James looks at him confused, "What do you think I am?"

"Thirsty?"

"Two pints!"

"Done."

James pulled his ringing mobile from his pocket, "Excuse me."

Laura and Robbie continued walking toward the pub. She lightly hit his arm, "Oh pull yourself together, Lewis. You're only young once and that was a long time ago. I'll buy you a drink and you can bang on about how perfect everything was in your day. Now when I say buy you a drink I should point out that I don't actually have any cash."

Laura took his arm squeezing it lightly as they walked to the pub with James trailing behind them. As James ended the call, he watched the two chatting amiably. He wondered if they knew how they felt about each other. It was perfectly clear to anyone who saw them together. But he was fairly certain they were oblivious.

Laura laughed at something Robbie, her face lit from within. When Robbie opened the door she ducked under his arm spinning gracefully before smiling up at him and lightly touching his chest. Robbie was just about to cover her hand with his when he remembered they had an audience. Dropping his hand, he turned back to James. "Come on clever clogs, I owe you two pints."

Holding up his hands, "I'll take a raincheck. Nothing personal but I got a better offer."

Laura stepped away from Robbie, "What could possibly be better than an evening spent with us?"

James blushed, "Well, uh…"

She laughed, waving over her shoulder as she turned back into the pub, "Have fun, James."

He laughed as he realized she was teasing him, "Good night, doctor. Inspector."

Robbie watched him walk away, wondering what he was up to. He felt Laura's small hand clasping his and turned back to her. "What was that all about?"

She smiled up at him, "I think your Sergeant has a date."

"What? How?"

Shaking her head, "The phone call."

"No…"

Lightly stroking his chest, "Get us a drink and I will explain it to you."

He smiled down at her, confusion clouding his expression. "Your usual?"

Sliding her hand down his chest, she found his hand, squeezing it softly. "I'll get us a table."

She was gone before he could respond. Her hand slid from his and he found he missed her touch. He'd noticed it more of late. It was always a casual effort on her part. A soft touch to his arm when they talked, occasionally looping her arm into his when they walked side by side.

It was nothing really, normal intimacy between good friends. And yet, lately he found he searched for scenarios where she might touch him. It was probably nothing. They were friends, she didn't think of him that way.

Shaking his head, he turned to the bar. He placed their order and turned back to find her in the crowded bar. She waved at him, a mischievous smile lighting her face. She really was stunning.

Paying for the drinks, he reminded himself she was his best friend. He was too old for her, she wouldn't ever think of him as anything more than a friend. Lifting the drinks, he wound his way through the bar toward her.

He set her drink in front of her as he sat. Their chairs were close together, for a moment he thought about moving it away. But he caught a whiff of her perfume and decided he liked being this close to her. He slipped his arm around the back of her chair, raising his glass. "Cheers."

"You can do better than that."

Shaking his head, "No, I was never very good at toasts."

Holding up her glass, "I guess I will have to do it." He nodded for her to continue. Leaning closer, she lowered her voice, he had to move even closer to hear her. "Wise, kind, generous, sexy…but enough about me, here's to you."

Robbie laughed, touching his glass softly to hers. She smiled at him over her glass, her eyes dancing with amusement. "That might be the best toast I've ever heard."

"Thank you."

They drank in silence for a bit. Finally, Robbie asked, "Do you really think James had a date?"

"Well I think date might be a generous term but yes he was meeting someone."

"You mean…"

"Yes, I mean." Raising an eyebrow, she smiled at him, "Are you shocked?"

A blush heated his cheeks, "Not shocked, surprised maybe."

"Did you think he was celibate?"

"I've never really given it much thought. Have you?"

"Been celibate?"

He spluttered his drink, "I meant given much thought…"

"To sex? Oh you'd be shocked by how often I give thought to it."

Suddenly his heart was beating a bit faster than normal, his mouth was unnaturally dry. He took a sip of his drink, trying to settle his suddenly unsavory thoughts. She was teasing him, nothing more, it was their normal banter.

Meeting her steady gaze, "So you've given a lot of thought to Hathaway and sex."

"Well not sex with Hathaway. But as separate topics, yes."

There was something about the way she said the last part. She'd leaned in, almost whispered the words. In the past, he would have discounted the closeness, chalked it off to the loudness of the pub. But now, enveloped by her perfume, intoxicated by the heat of her body, he couldn't dismiss it. Laura Hobson was flirting with him. And, more importantly, he liked it.


	3. Something Stronger

**Something Stronger**

As the doctor stitched up his arm, his mind wandered to Laura. More precisely, his reaction to her having a date. He'd been jealous, a seething anger which seemed out of proportion to the current state of their relationship.

At one time they'd seemed close to taking a step towards being more than friends. But over the past year, their moment appeared to have passed. They were still friends but there was none of the flirting, no dinners, it was a decidedly cooler relationship than it had been.

In those rare moments when he was honest with himself, he missed it. Missed it desperately, the flirty smile, touches which seem to light him on fire. He didn't know what had dampened their burgeoning relationship and he certainly didn't know how to reignite it. But based upon his reaction to her on a date, he clearly wanted it, wanted her.

He'd never been good at being the aggressor in a relationship. Val had asked him out, once upon a time. But he'd known he wanted her, just didn't really know what to do to win her. Laura was much the same. He knew he wanted her, had for some time, but he didn't quite know how to take that last step.

And now, his chance might have passed. An old boyfriend was moving back. Clearly she still had feelings for him if she was meeting him for dinner. A stab of pain, unrelated to his arm, pulsed through him. Would he be able to handle seeing her with someone else? The very idea of it struck fear in him.

"I'm done, Inspector."

He blinked, once, then again, "What?"

The doctor was stripping off the latex gloves, "I'm done. See the nurse for your care instructions. Then you are good to go."

He looked down at his arm, "Oh, thanks."

The doctor was gone before he could get anything else out. A young nurse entered the exam room, talking through the instructions before the door even closed. Five minutes later he was dismissed and at loose ends. Innocent had told him to take a few days to recover.

He wanted to check on Ganza, felt he owed the man an apology. It would be a difficult conversation but he would feel better if he spoke to the man.

With the sense of aimlessness that only comes when you are headed to do something you dread, he wandered the corridors of the hospital. He knew exactly where her room was but took a circuitous route, hoping something would distract him.

At the door to her room, he watched, listened, as Ganza read to his wife. It was a children's story, one he remembered reading to his own children. Ganza looked up, a sad look on his face, one Robbie was all too familiar with.

He held up the book, "The Jumblies. She said she loved them as a child."

Robbie inhaled sharply, "The Jumblies. Went to sea in a sieve."

"That's them."

Holding up his injure arm, "Did you hear?"

"What, that my diagnosis of Bethan was correct?" Robbie nodded. "Small comfort. I was blind for so long. I'm getting my punishment now." Robbie had to look away from the pain on Ganza's face. "There was a man in Belgium, woke up last year after being in a coma for 23 years. He said he'd been conscious all the time. All the time. For 23 years, he'd been screaming and shouting at people, but nobody heard him. So I'm going to be here. For as long as it takes. So that she doesn't have to scream."

Robbie understood, felt the man's pain. He turned to leave then stopped, "What will you do?"

"Keep on reading." Ganza returned to his place in the book prepared to read again.

"Dr. Ganza?" The younger man looked up at Robbie, "Why?"

"Hope, Inspector. We always have hope."

Robbie turned from the man, his words ringing in his ears. He thought about his own unbendable grief after Val died. He'd been inconsolable but had at least taken some comfort in the fact Val hadn't suffered. And here was a man facing years of grief and he was filled with hope.

A tender touch on his shoulder pulled him from his musings, "Robbie."

Even without her voice, he would have known her touch. He hadn't felt it in a long while, had missed it more than he realized. Turning he smiled down at her, "Hello."

"You OK?"

"Yeah." Holding up his arm, "A little worse for the wear but I'll live."

Motioning with her head, "Blow away the cobwebs?"

He nodded and they fell into step. It only took a few moments to exit the hospital. A companionable silence fell between them as they walked. Robbie desperately tried to think of something clever to say Something that would tell her everything he needed to say, needed her to know. The only words he could decipher were those from the children's story, "Went to sea in a sieve."

She looked up at him, "What's that?"

"I went to visit Dr. Ganza and he was reading to his wife."

She nodded, "What's he going to do?"

He shrugged, "Go on reading. He's going to stay with her."

"I spoke to her surgeon. There's no chance of recovery. Absolutely none."

"Yeah, I know. He knows. But he's staying."

She paused then asked, "Out of guilt?"

He looked at her, "Maybe, more out of love I think."

They stopped walking and looked at one another, "Sorry Robbie."

He snuffed, "You don't have to be. It's not as if we…"

She smiled at him, "Yeah."

"Think Ganza really proves it doesn't it."

"Proves what?"

"That you don't get many chances. You don't want to waste them." They gazed at one another. She was his chance, possibly his last chance. He smiled down at her, "Can I buy you a coffee, Laura?"

She smirked, "Coffee?"

"Something stronger?"

She smiled and nodded, "Sounds a bit more like it."

As they walked to the pub, she slipped her hand through his arm. He sighed with relief when she squeezed his arm. A deep fatigue settled over him and he stumbled just a bit.

"Robbie, when's the last time you slept?"

He shook his head, "Solidly? Start of this case."

"Why don't you come back to my place? You can kip in my spare room, have a nice nap. I'll throw in dinner a good bottle of wine. I'll even change your bandages later."

"You don't have to do that, Laura."

She nodded, "I know, Robbie. I'm offering because I want to."

"No, I can go home and nap."

Reaching up, she cupped his cheek, "But you won't. If you come home with me, I can make sure you rest, get a good meal. Let someone take care of you for a change."

"I can't sleep in my suit."

"My brother keeps a few spare clothes at my place. You can borrow those."

"Are you sure, Laura?"

"I insist, Robbie."

* * *

When he woke, it was dark outside. A comfortable silence filled the house, for only a second, he didn't know where he was. Then he smelled Laura and his entire body relaxed into the comfort of her guest room.

Sheets softer than any he'd ever felt slid across his skin. As he listened, he could hear her voice from down the stairs. It sounded like she was on the phone. Her laughter drifted up the stairs. All he could think was how nice this was.

Throwing back the covers, he sat up in the bed. On the dresser across the room was a pile of clothes with a note on top of them.

 _Robbie,_

 _The shirt is a total loss; I've already thrown it out. You are the same size as Michael, figured you would prefer clean clothes after your nap. Don't worry you can return them later. Come on down whenever you want. There are spare toothbrushes in the guest bath, feel free to shower if you like._

 _Laura_

He followed her instructions. Between the nap and the shower, he felt like a new man. He folded the pajamas she'd loaned him and placed them on the dresser in the guest room. Then he straightened the bed. Finally, when he could avoid it no longer, he made his way downstairs.

He found her curled on the sofa, book in her lap, glass of wine on the table. "Can I get one of those?"

Carefully marking her place in the book she smiled up at him, "Of course. Are you hungry?"

He nodded, smelling something, "Famished."

She stood easily, her hand coming to rest on his chest. "Take a seat, I'll pop the bread in the oven and be back with your wine."

Without thinking he covered her hand with his, "You don't have to wait on me, Laura. I can get my own wine."

"I want to, Robbie. Just sit down, relax."

He smiled down at her, squeezed her hand. "OK." She started to walk away and he held her hand, "Thank you."

"For?"

"Taking care of me, it's been a long time since someone has."

She reached up with her free hand, pushing his hair back. "There's no need. I seem to remember you taking care of me once upon a time."

"I don't remember a home cooked meal. As I recall, it was a curry takeaway."

"And you slept in the very uncomfortable chair in my bedroom and watched over me, comforted me when I woke screaming."

He smiled, "I guess we are even then."

"I wasn't aware we were keeping score." As his smile faded, she stepped away, "I'll get your wine."

He watched her walk away, kicking himself for ruining the moment. For a moment, there had a been a flash of something. Then he'd ruined it with careless words. Dropping onto the sofa, he picked up the book she'd been reading, a biography. He flipped it over, read the description on the back.

"It's quite good. She was a fascinating woman, independent, beautiful, made her way in a world typically ruled by men."

She handed him the glass of wine then sat next to him on the sofa. "The same could be said for you."

She laughed as she took a sip of her wine, "That's sweet but I'm not sure I fit any of those adjectives."

"I think you fit them all. To a T."

"No one has ever described me as fascinating."

He laughed, "That's the adjective you take exception with? Fascinating?"

"Well all of them really? Except perhaps independent? That one I will confess to. It's ruined many a relationship."

"Is that what happened with Franco?"

Taking another sip, she shrugged. "Yes and no. He moved away, I wouldn't give up my career to follow him."

Nervously he took a sip before he asked the question he knew would color the rest of the evening. "But now that he's moving back, your independence isn't really an issue, is it?"

Meeting his eye, "No." He tried to hide his emotion, "Of course, his wife might have a say in the matter."

Relief flooded through him, "He's married."

"Two small children, too. We're just good friends now. I'm friends with Alexandra as well. We were just having dinner, two old friends catching up."

Silence filled the room, somehow they both knew they'd turned a corner. Robbie was the first to break the silence, "How did we end up here?"

"In my sitting room?" Seeing his look, she dropped the joke, "I think we both got scared. What if we lost what we had?"

"But we did, didn't we?"

She shrugged, "I don't know, we're here, having this conversation. Perhaps there is still hope."

Her choice of word, more than anything, forced him into action. For once in their relationship, he didn't think, didn't let his own fear rule his actions. Leaning forward, he kissed her. There was nothing tentative about the kiss. He knew what he wanted.

She pulled back, for just a second fear stabbed at him. Then he realized she was taking his glass, placing it on the table next to hers. The smile she gave him was one he'd never seen before. There was something slightly predatory about it and it had an instant reaction on his body.

Before she could move, he pulled her to him, pressing their lips together. The kiss was all need and want, teeth and tongue. Two people finally getting out of their own way and letting desire take over. She met him on his terms, wrapping her arms around him, pushing him to a prone position on the sofa. Her body came to rest on top of him, he could feel every contour of her body and it spurred him on.

His hands came to rest under her blouse, the feel of her skin a balm to his nerves. She was here, real, and she seemed to want him as much as he wanted her. Her nails carded through his hair, raking along his scalp sending electric pulses through his body, connecting lower. His arousal twitched against her soft stomach.

Feeling it, she moaned into his mouth. She undulated her body against him, pressing into him. Her hands moved down, pulling at the soft shirt he was wearing, desperate to touch skin. Continuing to kiss him, she shifted pulling on the shirt.

Laura broke the kiss, breathing hard, she moved so he could sit up and she could remove the shirt. He sat up, letting her pull it over his head. The second it was clear, he wrapped his arms around her. This time the kiss was softer, a tender exploration of her mouth.

She melted into him, wrapping her legs around his waist. Breathing in the kiss, she was overwhelmed by the contrast from the first kiss. Tears, she was unaware of, streamed down her face. She'd wanted this for so long, had dreamt of it. And now it was happening.

He felt the hot tears, concern ripped through him. He pulled away, "Laura."

Confusion clouded her eyes, "What?"

Wiping at her tears, "You're crying. Have I…"

This time she kissed him, softly, tenderly. "Tears of joy, Robbie. I thought this would never happen. I've wanted you for so long."

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"Making you wait so long. But I promise, if you still want me, I'm all yours."

Her clear, sparkling laughter filled the room. "I'm sitting in your lap, legs wrapped around your waist. I think the question of me wanting you has been answered."

"Then what are you waiting for?"

Her predatory smile returned, leaning in she was just about to kiss him when an insistent buzzing sounded throughout the house. "Damn it. I forgot about the bread."

"You burnt the bread?"

Laughing she unwrapped herself from him, "It's your fault."

"How is it my fault?"

Smiling down at him, "You kissed me and made me forget everything else."

"Get used to it, Laura. When you come back I'm going to kiss you like that again."

"I hope kissing isn't all you have planned."


	4. I Love You, I Love You, I Love You

**I Love You, I Love You, I Love You**

As he lay awake, staring at the ceiling of her bedroom, his thoughts were filled with her. He hadn't expected to find this at his age. Honestly, when Val died, he'd really thought he had too. Of course, he was still alive, physically walking the planet, but more as a shell of himself.

Yet somehow, this tiny woman had reached inside him and healed all of the pain. She'd given him the will and the desire to step back into life rather than merely existing in it. And this restorative act had not only brought them together, it had heightened every relationship in his life.

He was closer with his daughter than ever before. His son had accepted his apologies and they were reestablishing their relationship slowly, but surely. All because of her, because of her love, because of his love for her.

His eyes widened at the thought. It was love he felt, a deep, restorative, abiding love. Different from what he'd felt for Val but no less real.

Turning his head, he watched her sleep, wondered if she knew how very deeply he loved her. She, who seemed to know every nuance of his personality. Did she know he was head over heels, irrevocably, in love with her?

He thought about rolling closer to her, pulling her into his arms and whispering the words softly until she woke. Reaching for her, he stopped. She deserved better, deserved romance, something he was typically not very good at. But, for her, he would do it. Would plan the perfect moment to tell her what she meant to him.

He still rolled closer to her, still pulled her into his arms. And as he drifted back to sleep, her skin pressed tightly to his, his mind started planning the perfect way to tell Laura Hobson he loved her.

* * *

Laura had been on a date with Alan Peterson. It should bother him, and for a single moment, he'd been jealous. But, knowing how he felt for her, suspecting how she felt for him, it didn't matter. His mind continued building on his plan on how to tell her he loved her.

He knocked on the door of her lab, excited to see her. She was smiling, gorgeous, took his breath away. It was exciting to be alone with her, especially here where they had to maintain a veil of professionalism. It used to be easier, they flirted, bantered. Now he wanted to pull her to him, kiss her, press her into the wall.

The knock at the door, was followed by the door opening. Alan Peterson's head appeared around the door. Something flared, anger, jealousy. Why was he here? He stared at the younger man, felt his anger grow even more. They eyed one another awkwardly then Peterson turned his attention to Laura.

He handed her the file he was carrying, "Thanks Laura."

Laura smiled, took the file, "No problem."

Robbie didn't notice Laura's quick glance at him. Could only see Alan trying to catch her eye, an eagerness which made him even angrier.

Alan smiled, "Speak later?" Laura smiled, nodding at the younger man.

With her smile, Action Man retreated, leaving them alone. Robbie stared at her not really sure how to proceed. His feelings which had been so positive, so strong were now jumbled, mixed. He tried to push them away, forced himself to focus on her words.

"He came to discuss some forensic results." Robbie nodded, head still spinning. "And to invite me to dinner."

Robbie took a deep breath as he stared at the screen behind her, jealousy flared, deeper and more glaring than ever. He tried to push it away, "Ah, right. When?"

Laura shook her head, staring at him, "Never. Not my type."

Robbie stared at her, feelings of jealousy receding slightly. He felt foolish, like a silly school boy. He pointed at the screen trying to bring the attention back to the case.

As he walked away, he paused, turned back to her. "Sorry." It was meant to be an apology for his jealousy, his petulance about Peterson. At her questioning look, he changed his mind, "I messed your dentist around."

She shrugged, nonchalant, "Forgiven."

He smiled at her, wondering if she'd understood his real meaning. Walking away, he chastised himself, why hadn't he just said what he meant.

* * *

Walking through the halls, he smiled to himself. It was even more important to put his plan into action. His thoughts were deep into the details of his plans when he heard Peterson's voice.

"Yes, reservations for two. Friday night. I'd like a table overlooking the river." There was a slight pause, "Yes, it's a romantic evening." Robbie froze in his tracks, strained to listen. Peterson was planning too. The jealousy returned.

* * *

The case ended, James forced him to the dentist. Through it all, he continued to plan. Thought he'd worked up the perfect plan to tell her. Now just to put it into motion.

Pacing the living room of his flat, he called her. "Hello you."

"Hi, how are you feeling?"

"Better. James' dentist was good, I'm pretty sure yours would have been better."

"Flattery will get you everywhere, Inspector Lewis."

"Will it get me a date on Friday night?"

He heard her sigh, "I have plans. Saturday night?"

"Sure, Saturday it is."

"I'm free now, if you want to grab dinner."

He shook his head, "I've already eaten."

"Then I guess I will have to wait until Saturday."

"Well I'll let you go so you can eat."

There was a pause, "OK. See you Saturday."

She was gone before he could say anything further. He should have offered to join her, watch her eat. Maybe even bring her something to eat. A missed opportunity, he would make it up to her.

She had plans for Friday; his mind went to the conversation he'd overheard. Peterson making reservations for a romantic dinner. Were those her plans? It wasn't as if they'd ever had a conversation about exclusivity.

This thing they had was exclusive on his part. He'd assumed it was for her too. But, perhaps, it wasn't. Could he lose her? No, he couldn't, wouldn't lose her. He would go through with his plans on Saturday, tell her how he felt, take his chances.

* * *

It had all seemed so simple when he'd agreed to Saturday rather than Friday. But as the week moved on his concern about Friday grew, almost became a living breathing thing. It was how he came to be sitting on her sofa at 10 Friday evening.

Which each passing minute, his jealousy grew. All he could think about was a table by the river, candlelight, wine, all of the things he hadn't given to her. Was that what she wanted?

Her keys in the door an hour later interrupted his spiraling thoughts. He watched her, she was smiling, humming to herself as she carefully put her things away.

"Did you have a good time?"

Laura jumped, "Robbie? What the hell?"

"How was your evening?"

"It was good. Yours?"

"Where were you?"

"At dinner, with a friend."

"A friend, you're dressed awfully nicely for dinner with a friend."

"We went to a nice restaurant."

"A romantic restaurant?"

Confusion clouded her expression, "I guess it might be. I figured you'd be in a sweaty pub watching a match."

"Which left you free to go on a date?"

"A what?"

"I know you were on a date with Peterson."

"What?"

"A second date, to be precise."

"Are you drunk, Robbie Lewis?'

"Never been more sober."

"High? Feverish? Having a hallucination?"

"No."

"Then what the hell are you talking about? A date?"

"With Peterson. And not one date, two. You went to that lecture and tonight you went to dinner."

She laughed, "And all of these years I thought you were a good detective. James must be the brains."

"Are you denying you went out with Peterson?"

"I went to a lecture with him, not sure anyone would consider that a date."

"And you went to dinner with him, tonight?"

Anger flared in her, "And if I did?"

Her anger at him triggered his. He screamed, "So you aren't denying it?"

She matched his volume, "Why do you care? Or is it just because it's Alan?"

His anger erupted, breathing sped up. Without thinking, he shouted, "Because I love you." The words echoed around the room, followed by deafening silence. When she didn't respond, he screamed again, "I love you."

She stared at him, "I heard you the first time. I'm pretty sure the neighbors heard you the second time."

He crossed the room in two steps, pulled her to him. Just before his lips crashed into hers, he whispered, "I love you."

He pushed her back, pressing her into the wall. He felt her pulling at him, reason returned for just an instant, worried he might have scared her. Breaking away from the kiss, he looked down at her.

The look she gave him wasn't fearful, it was filled with lust. She pulled at his shirt, ripped it apart, buttons scattered around the room. Pushing up, she kissed him, deeply.

He succumbed to the kiss, pressing her into the wall again. Pulling her skirt up, hands seeking bare skin. He pushed down on her knickers, lifted her to let them slide down her legs. Her hands grasped at his belt, unfastening it, unbuttoning his trousers.

He gasped as her hand surrounded him, squeezed him. She pushed his pants down as he lifted her. Guiding him into her without hesitation crying out loudly as he thrust into her. He paused, letting her adjust to the intrusion.

He waited until he felt her tighten her legs around him and flex around his length. Then he began to move, hard and fast. She met his movements, pulled at him, attacking the skin at his neck when he pulled away from the kiss. He lifted her higher, pushing into her harder as he changed the angle.

Her arms wrapped around him, nails scraping at his back. She screamed out, taken by surprise by the orgasm ripping through her body. It had come out of nowhere, eclipsing her body. Strong, powerful bordering on painful.

Robbie paused, let her ride out the orgasm, knowing how sensitive she would be. He waited until he felt her nod against his neck. He carried her, easily, to the sofa. Sitting, he was surprised when she kissed him, deeply, tenderly.

Shifting her position, she began moving. His hands gripped at her hips, pressing up to her. They moved together, some of the frenzy had passed but this was no less urgent. Laura squeezed around him, moving up and down his length.

He cried out, breaking the kiss. His own release desperately close. She smiled down at him, moving faster and harder. "I love you, Robbie."

Her words were all he needed, his release overtook him. He pulled her to him, kissing her softly. They held each other, waiting for their pulses to slow.

Laura recovered first, kissed his neck lightly, moving up to his ear. Whispering into his ear, "I was at dinner with Jean."


	5. Takeaway & Comfort

**Takeaway & Comfort**

He watched her chat with the few people who had attended the funeral. A poor showing for a woman who had kept such dark secrets. Secrets which had almost resulted in Laura's death. He found he couldn't summon much sympathy for the dead woman. Not after what had almost happened to Laura.

As the paramedics had pulled her unconscious form from the grave, his heart skipped several beats. He'd been certain they hadn't gotten there in time. As they jostled her slightly, her eyes opened, she'd reached for him. He'd offered his hand, surprised at her strength as she clung to him.

It had never occurred to him to let go as they loaded her into the ambulance. He climbed in behind them holding onto her hand. She'd clung to it even after the sedative took hold. He'd held her hand through the night, watching her sleep. A small piece of him had wanted to climb into the bed next to her, pull her into his arms.

He was almost certain the gesture wouldn't have been welcome. They'd come so close to a date, had even agreed to try again but nothing had ever come of it. They'd fallen back into their comfortable routine, friends and nothing more. He wanted more, wanted to be the one who comforted her, protected her.

The next morning she'd been released. He'd almost offered her his spare room but a friend had appeared whisking her away. She'd smiled back at him, sadly. For a moment, he imagined the sadness was at leaving him and not merely the circumstances.

Today was the first time he'd seen her since then. Even as tired as she looked, she was still beautiful, almost luminous. It wasn't the first time he'd noticed her beauty. Those moments seem to come more and more frequently of late.

She was walking toward him, a tired smile lighting her face. She reached for him, "Robbie, thank you." Her hand came to rest on his chest, warm, soft. "If you hadn't…"

He smiled, "We did. And we always will." She smiled back at him, her hand flexing lightly against his chest. Motioning away from the cemetery, "Blow away the cobwebs?"

She nodded and they walked away. She looped her arm into his as they walked. They walked leisurely, neither in any hurry to go anywhere. Silence loomed between them but in its own way, it was comforting.

Neither of them moved to fill the space, instead they kept walking, each comforted by the mere presence of the other. If Laura hadn't yawned, the silence might have continued.

"You need to rest, pet."

She smiled, covering her mouth with her free hand. "Probably, but not quite yet. I need to go to the market, there's nothing to eat at my house."

He looked down at her, surprised, "I thought you were staying with a friend."

She nodded, "I was, I did. But it's time for me to go home."

He stopped walking, "Are you sure?"

Shrugging, she squeezed his arm, "If I don't, I might never."

"Do you want some company?"

"At the market?"

He laughed, "I have a better idea." When she nodded, he continued, "Let's grab a takeaway, go back to your place. That will solve your immediate need for food and there will be someone there to keep you company."

Coolly, she met his gaze. "Do I seem like I need company?"

Keeping his face blank, "Would you rather be alone?" He paused, "The thoughts will come either way but with someone there, they might stay at bay for a bit longer. And, if not, there will be someone there to distract you, make you laugh, hold you together."

A small crack in her façade appeared, "What thoughts?"

"Betrayal, anger, hurt. They will all come. And after what you've been through, I would imagine a fair share of fear."

She smiled, "Those sound like therapist words."

"I don't like them; I didn't say I hadn't seen them."

"What kind of takeaway?"

Offering her his arm, "Lady's choice."

* * *

They were laughing as they fell into the door of her home. Both of them carrying arms full of food and wine.

Laura turned back to him, laughing, "I think this is why you aren't supposed to shop while hungry."

Robbie smiled at her, glad to see her happy. "Maybe you won't have to go to the market tomorrow."

She wrinkled her nose, "Leftover curry isn't great for breakfast."

"No, but I might be willing to take you to breakfast."

"Thank you, Robbie."

Shifting the bags to one hand, he reached for her, stroking her cheek lightly. "No need, It's what friends are for."

A blush warmed her cheeks, "I'm hungry, you?"

He nodded, "Yeah." He handed her one of the bags, "Why don't you fix our plates? I'll open the wine."

"Deal."

* * *

The remnants of their meal were on the discarded plates on the table in front of them. Robbie poured the last of the wine into their glasses. He touched his glass to hers, "And you thought we bought too much food."

She laughed, "There are still two full containers in the kitchen."

Settling deeper into her sofa, "Give me a few hours and I can eat again."

Laura yawned, "I don't know if I will be awake for that much longer."

He motioned toward the stairs, "Why don't you change into something more comfortable? I'll clean up this mess, make some tea then we can watch some telly."

"You don't have to stay."

"I know, Laura. I want to." He paused, "Unless you want me to go."

She shook her head, "No." Draining the last of the wine from her glass, "I like having you here."

"Then off you get. I'll have the tea ready by the time you return."

Laura handed him her glass then stood. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

He watched her walk away, a small smile playing across his lips. All of this felt right, comfortable. It had been so long since he'd had someone to take care of, someone to treasure, to love. He shook his head, surprised by the thoughts running through his head.

Picking up their plates, he made his way to the kitchen. It only took a short while to clean up their mess. The kettle was ready by the time he finished. He made a cup of tea for them both then carried them to the sitting room.

He was slightly shocked she hadn't returned. Carefully he set each cup down then turned on the television. He started flipping through the channels as he settled into the sofa with his cup of tea. Ten minutes later he started to worry.

Placing his cup on the table again, he stood, moved to the foot of the stairs. "Laura." When there was no answer, he climbed half the stairs, "Laura."

He waited again, still no answer. Climbing the remainder of the stairs, he crossed the small landing. Her bedroom door was ajar, he pushed on it lightly. "Laura."

As the door slid open, he saw her. She'd managed to change clothes, pajamas that seemed soft, well worn. She was curled in the middle of her bed, asleep. He couldn't help but smile. In the corner of the room was a stand. There were several blankets hanging from it.

He took one, tenderly draped it over her body. She stirred lightly, then settled, curling into the blanket. Backing out of the room, he made his way downstairs as quietly as he could. He perused her bookshelves, selected one then settled on the sofa. He picked up her cup of tea and started to read.

* * *

His eyes shot open, confusion filled him. For a moment, he had no idea where he was, what had woken him. The book falling from his chest reminded him where he was. The blood-curdling scream answered the other question.

Without a second's hesitation, he was up the stairs, pushing his way into her bedroom. "Laura."

She was wrestling with the cover, tangled, screaming. He crossed the room, sitting beside her on the bed, pulling her into his arms. Stroking her hair, he whispered, "It's OK, Laura. I'm here. Shhh…"

Laura pushed at him. He let her, but cupped her cheek. "Laura, it's me. It's Robbie. You're safe."

Her eyes were wild, her breathing labored. "Robbie."

He smiled, "Yes, I'm here." He cupped her cheek, "It was a bad dream. Do you want to talk about it?"

She shook her head, "No, not yet."

"Would you like some tea?"

"No, I wouldn't say no to a glass of water though."

He nodded, "I can do that. Can I get you anything else?"

"No." She pointed to the bathroom, "I'm going to wash my face."

"I'll be back with your water."

She watched him go, closed her eyes, taking several deep breaths. Once she was calmer, she made her way to the bathroom, splashing water on her face. Glancing in the mirror, she could still see the fear and wildness in her own eyes. The dream returned in full force.

The twins dragging her from her home, driving her to the abandoned hospital. The feel of falling into the grave, the first shovel of dirt landing on her. Her breathing was ragged, panic overtook her. She felt the scream start was about to let it loose when she felt arms around her.

His scent surrounded her, a blend of the cologne he'd always worn and something which was distinctly him. She remembered it from that night. It calmed her just as it had then. She exhaled deeply, all of the air she'd been holding to scream releasing in a single silent breath.

"It's OK, Laura. They aren't here and they never will be."

She clung to him, desperate for the comfort his arms offered. He had anchored her that night, given her a sense of peace. "How did you know?"

"Nightmares don't always end just because we wake." Kissing her hair lightly, "Let's get you back to bed."

She shook her head, "I can't."

Guiding her gently, "Yes, you can." They returned to her bedroom. He pointed to a smallish, uncomfortable chair, "I'm going to be right there."

She smiled, "You can't sleep there, Robbie. That chair is dreadfully uncomfortable. I really should replace it."

"Who says I'm going to sleep?" He moved her to the bed, stood there as she sat. Lifting the blanket, he waited patiently while she settled amongst the pillows. He flipped the blanket over her, tucking her in carefully. "I'll watch over you all night long. Now, it's time to sleep."

"You don't have to do that, Robbie."

He stroked her cheek tenderly, "I know, Laura. I offered."

* * *

Laura woke the next morning to sun streaming into the windows of her bedroom. She'd slept through the remainder of the night without incident. As she sat up in bed, she froze, smiling at the sight which met her.

Robbie Lewis was sprawled across the uncomfortable chair asleep. A soft snore issued forth from his lips. Her hand covered her mouth, tears formed in her eyes. Her protector, she remembered him sleeping next to her in the hospital room.

It had felt so natural to wake next to him. She knew her feelings for him were growing, deepening. There had been a time when she'd thought he had feelings for her. But then it passed. She didn't know what had happened, only knew their window of opportunity had closed.

Perhaps it was for the best. They had managed to salvage their friendship, hadn't lost it. She didn't think she could handle losing it. Especially in light of Ligeia's betrayal. Robbie might be the closest friend she had left. That was worth more to her than any romantic entanglement.

He stirred, almost fell out of the chair. As he sat up, she laughed. "Good morning, it seems we made it through the night."


End file.
